


And Fallin’ Love

by orphan_account



Category: Aqua Teen Hunger Force
Genre: Cuddling, Cute, Drugs, Fluff, Love Confession, M/M, Marijuana, Mutual Pining, Sharing A Blunt, bed sharing, smoking weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Crow smokes a blunt for the first time.
Relationships: Master Shake/Crow the Lemming, Master Shake/OC





	And Fallin’ Love

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been fixated on Aqua Teen Hunger Force for 2 months, and in that two months I’ve drawn nothing but self insert art of Master Shake and my fursona. 
> 
> If you’re just as confused as I am when I realized I had an affinity for a sentient drink cup, read this document. It discusses the pairing (which I refer to as CrowShake) in much more detail, and is updated whenever I have new ideas involving them: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BXDzfpQeAasupsEPQy14u9jBk5iRVwRgAFufbHktyZE/edit
> 
> Fic title comes from the song by Hirokazu Tanaka.
> 
> Please let me know what you think about this story. Thanks for reading!

Crow sat on the roof of the Aqua Teen house, waiting for Master Shake to meet him there. It was a muggy June night, and the two had spent the wee hours watching TV restlessly. They were dealing with the burst of energy that’s most associated with staying up late, where one’s productivity seems to be greater than in the middle of the afternoon. The type of energy where a person wants to do so much, yet the lingering feeling of sleep teases at them. To Crow and Shake, it wasn’t a bad idea to expel that energy through sitting outside and talking. Shake climbed up the metal ladder that led to the roof of the ranch style house, the clanking sound drawing Crow’s attention. 

“Master Shake, what took you so long?” The lemming asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He fumbled to open the plastic case of water bottles right beside him. 

“Just call me Shake, Cee. We’re friends. Just gimme a second to get situated.” Shake responded, visibly bothered by Crow’s serious demeanor. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just worried something happened to you—like you were chewed out by Frylock or something.”

Shake scoffed, taking a seat a foot away from his friend. 

“Frylock’s in dreamy dream land. He doesn’t know we’re up here, and he sure as hell doesn’t know what we’re gonna do up here.”

“Which is…?”

Shake waggled his left hand, whose index finger and thumb were holding onto something. Upon further inspection, Crow deduced that in his hand was a blunt. His eyes widened in shock as he laughed to himself, slightly embarrassed that he almost had a heart attack over something so harmless. “Jesus, you took _that_ long for a fucking blunt?” 

“It was the only one I had, sheesh!” Shake whined. I didn’t wanna go through all the trouble of going to the weed cellar, drying them up, getting paper, wrapping them up, you know?” Crow shook his head in disagreement. 

“I never smoked a blunt before, so I don’t know.”

“ _Seriously?_ You’re a textbook starving artist who went to art school and probably hung around a bunch of goddamn weirdos who’ve snorted some grandfather’s ashes at a party thinking it was cocaine, and you’ve _never_ smoked weed?”

“That’s… oddly specific. But you’re not too far off. I’m just more of an edibles person, and I still am! It’s just a bitch to prepare and I don’t want Meatwad to get into that.” Shake pursed his lips perplexedly. 

“You don’t remember when we made weed brownies and we ate too many? We were passed out for the entire day! Now imagine if Meatwad ate one of them or even found the weed stash and tried to do something with it. Frylock would literally kill us.” 

“Come _on,_ he’s not smart enough to open the child safety lock you put on the door to the weed cellar.”

“I mean, every time you went down to open it, you had to ask for me or Frylock to open it for you.” Crow’s tone was playful. 

“I got tiny hands, okay? I can’t change that. I don’t have the strength to push down the buttons sometimes.”

He lit the blunt with a small lighter and put it up to his lips and took in a huge breath of the smoke, blowing it out a few seconds later, the puff fizzling out into the air. 

“Sometimes I forget you can see the city from here.” The bustling New Jersey city, skyscrapers reflecting the moonlight, the high end apartments’ glow and distant droning of music coating the starry sky in an orange light polluted hue, was an immensely nostalgic sight for Shake. “God, last time I was there I tried to get a broad’s number at a sleazy sports bar.”

Crow, in a daze, started at the trail of smoke coming off the blunt, delicately between Shake’s yellow digits. 

“That didn’t go anywhere. The wings tasted like shit too.”

“Of course they tasted like shit, Shake. Frylock told me you went to a Buffalo Wild Wings, so that explains it.”

“Damn it!” He swore. “Why’d he tell you?” 

“I mean, it’s not _that_ embarrassing. It’s typical behavior of you. No judgment here. Hell, last time I went to Atlantic City, or any major city in New Jersey for that matter, I went to that hellhole of a Hard Rock Cafe.”

“We’re banned from there, Cee.”

“What did you _do_?” 

“I danced on the tables trying to do an air solo to a Metallica song. Bet Frylock didn’t tell ya that, huh?” Shake smirked, taking another puff. “Wasn’t my proudest moment. I had puke all over me.” Crow shook his head, amused by Shake’s stories. 

“God,” Shake spoke out loud, dumbfounded. “I’ve been a dick since I got up here, haven’t I?”

Crow eyed his surroundings as he tried to figure out what his friend was talking about. “...How so? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I never offered you.”

“Offered _what_?”

He awkwardly held out the blunt, waiting for Crow to take it. 

“Ooohhh!” Crow’s eyes widened. “Thanks!” He carefully held the blunt between his fingers. “Just warning you, I’ll probably look like a complete bozo smoking this.” Crow put the blunt to his lips, taking in the smoke quickly. Shortly after, he began to cough violently.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Shake shouted, giving the short lemming a few pats on the back to ease his coughing. “You good?”

“I—told you I—wasn’t a pro at—this!” Crow hacked for a few more seconds until his throat cleared. 

“You gotta hold it in for a few seconds, Cee. Do you feel anything yet?” He wriggled his fingers into the case of water and pulled out one. “Here. You’ll need this.” Crow nodded his head in thankfulness and nabbed the water, cracking the lid open and taking a large sip. 

“No, not really. Don’t wanna get overwhelmed. It’ll hit me sooner or later. How often do you smoke?”

“Less frequently than you think.”

“Do you do it when you’re stressed, bored, or what?”

“I have to just be in the mood for it. Tonight was one of those nights, I guess.”

A light breeze put out the lit blunt, still between Crow’s lips. 

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing for the wind?”

“Just a habit.”

“C’mere.”

The sound of a lighter clicking pierced the background noise of the occasional car speeding by. 

“I’ll light it for ya.”

Crow moved himself closer to Shake, entranced by the small flame. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes moving to look at Shake. Crow felt his cheeks grow hot as he suddenly began to exhale through his mouth, his heart rate increasing tenfold. He was reminded of when they spent the whole day sleeping after being zooted off pot brownies. All the lemming could remember was the occasional times their hands or arms brushed against one another, and the feeling he got to reach out and clasp the loud-mouthed, six foot drink cup. It was a sense of yearning that kept him up at night numerous times before, hoping to God that one day he finally could be held by someone, something. 

“...T-thanks.” He said slowly, trying to divert his attention from his sudden feelings. 

“Ya feel anything yet?” Shake queried. 

“I... I think so?” 

“Your face is all red, and you seem winded.”

“I-it’s hot. Hot flashes.” Crow lied. 

“Menopausal _already_?” Shake teased. In response, Crow jokingly whacked him with his half empty water bottle. 

“Fuck off, Shake!” He chuckled. 

“Well, that’s enough to know you’re not toasted yet.”

“Hold on.” Crow took another hit from the blunt, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “Ahhh, that ain’t too bad.” He sighed contentedly. “I’m too much of a foodie, so I’ll stick to edibles. This can be an occasional thing, though.” He leaned back on the roof, one arm behind his shoulder, gazing at the remains of stars in the sky, awaiting Shake to follow. “Well don’t just stand there, Shake!” Crow pouted. “Relax and unwind.”

“I’m getting there!” He retorted. “I don’t want my back to give out.” He slowly leaned backward, one of his hands resting behind him, the other placed gently atop his abdomen. 

“That recliner you sleep on in the living room doesn’t look comfortable. I bet it does a number to your back. I don’t know why you haven’t suggested getting like, a loveseat or a full living room set or something.”

“I have! Frylock said we couldn’t afford it. I told him that we could look on Craigslist or go to Bob’s Furniture!” Crow scoffed at Shake’s proposals. 

“Yeah, well Bob’s Furniture fucking blows.”

“Well, what about IKEA?” Shake’s voice was a higher pitch. 

“You do realize that Frylock would be doing most of the work installing it, right?”

“And you say that like it’s a _bad_ thing.”

Crow erupted into a caterwaul of laughter. “I don’t know why I’m laughing so hard. It wasn’t even that funny, Christ!”

“Someone’s getting _buzzed_!”

“Yeah, I probably am. Your turn.” Crow passed the blunt back to Shake. “Also—please call me Crow. We’re friends.” He flashed a warm grin at the sentient cup. Shake felt his stomach become light and airy in joy, the edges of his mouth curling up in a goofy smile. He loved seeing Crow smile and laugh. He always took note of how Crow seemed to laugh harder when he was around. While never telling Crow or his roommates, he considered himself the “funniest man alive.”

“Well, that’s quite an unorthodox name.” He closed his eyes as he gathered smoke in his mouth. A few seconds later, he began to blow smoke rings. “But maybe it’s not that weird. You are a half-pint lemming, after all.”

“Says the six foot milkshake who calls himself the ‘Master!’” Crow snapped back harmlessly, watching the smoke dissolve into the sky. 

“I take a lot of pride in that, ya know?”

“If _that_ wasn’t obvious enough. ‘Cee’ is what i have people call me when I’m working. Some people have said my real name is weird, so I get kinda insecure.” Crow admitted.

“I’m… flattered that you trust me enough to let me call you by your real name.” Shake said candidly.

“Of course I trust you! Even though you do some weird shit sometimes.” In response to Crow’s comment, the cup smirked mischievously. The green haired lemming watched the remains of the blunt burn into cinders between Shake’s fingers, the orange wisps of ash turning black. “Thanks for sharing the blunt.”

“Consider yourself lucky. I’m _very_ possessive of my Mary Jane.” Crow’s outburst of laughter resumed upon hearing Shake’s remark. 

“You’re such a dork when you try to sound tough.”

“I ain’t no dork!” Shake squinted. “Dorks don’t have copious amounts of weed in their crawl space.” 

“If you say so.” Crow drank the rest of his bottled water and crushed it on his forehead. “Hey, Shake.”

“What?”

“Come closer.”

“Why?” Shake was curious. 

“Be _cauuuuseeeeee!_ ” 

“Don’t tell me you get clingy when you’re high. I _hate_ that shit.” Shake grumbled. 

“It’s not clingy! I just wanna do something.” Reluctantly, Shake moved himself closer to Crow, a matter of inches apart. “Alright, why the hell do you need to sit next to you?”

“Look at the stars,” Crow extended his arm as he pointed to the sky. “I think they’re moving.”

“They’re not moving!” Shake laughed. “You’re just high as a kite.”

“Whatever. They’re pretty looking and you should look at them.”

The two gazed at the stars in silence for a few minutes. Shake felt his body grow fuzzy at the sudden realization he was beside Crow. He, too, had no memory of when they slept on each other after eating pot brownies. He did, however, long for the slight pressure on his chest and the feeling of warmth he tried to replicate days after the fact. When he gazed at the stars, he searched for constellations as he desperately tried to visualize what he was feeling, and why he was so dedicated to reenwhat he vaguely remembered. He searched for stars that formed shapes of what he was looking for, unaware that it was Crow he was thinking of. No pillows or blankets could replace that. Maybe Crow was right: the stars were moving after all. 

“Crow,” he cooed. 

“Hm?”

“Crow…”

“You good?” Crow’s eyes widened. 

“It’s just a nice name.”

“I picked it out myself, did you know that?”

“I did _not._ ” Shake began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re damn good at choosing names. Do people call you _‘Crowcrow?’_ ”

“One of my friends does.”

“I’ll just call you Crow. It’s a perfect name for a perfect lemming.”

“You’re repeating yourself. Are you high?”

“Probably.”

Crow covered his mouth in disbelief. Shake said he was ‘perfect.’ A rush of adrenaline flooded his veins as he felt the impulse to do something incredibly dicey. 

“Shake… can I ask you a question?” His voice was cautious. 

“I don’t give serious answers while zooted, for the record,” he warned. “So don’t dump any serious shit onto me.”

“It doesn’t matter if you answer seriously or not. I just … I wanna have this conversation as is.” 

“Give it to me straight.”

“Have you ever wondered if… if the person you want to spend your life with is out there, somewhere?”

“Like, a soulmate or whatever that hippie shit is called?”

“Yeah.” Crow answered, slightly defeated by his rude, but typical reply. “But not just that. Do you think about how they go about their day and the places they might be? Do you wonder if they’re thinking of you, and where you are, and where _you_ may be?”

Shake turned to face Crow, who was still looking at the stars, oblivious to his staring. He thought about Crow a lot, even before the pot brownie incident. He thought about all the things he wanted to say to Crow only for them to be forgotten because of the hilarious and enjoyable conversations they had naturally. All the recipes he wanted to share with him, still left bookmarked in a cookbook purchased at a secondhand store because of their scrumptious concoctions made on a whim. He blinked a few times to snap himself out of his near descent into the rabbit hole that was his feelings for Crow.

“Do _you_?” He finally said, wincing as he hoped to God that his response wasn’t obviously delayed. 

“Of course!” Crow responded brightly. 

“Can you tell me?”

“...Tell you what?”

“Where do you think your ‘one person’ is right now?” Shake immediately regretted asking such a loaded question. He facepalmed, cringing and shouting obscenities in his head. 

“That’s a good question.” Said Crow, slightly puzzled. He didn’t know how to go about talking to Shake about it without exposing his feelings. They both were high, and Crow was sure as hell he didn’t want to screw up their night. 

“Someplace fun, like Six Flags or Morey’s Piers! I hope they’re a huge daredevil, because I’m an adrenaline junkie. God, can you imagine going on a roller coaster while _stoned?”_ Crow said excitedly. 

“I have. I think.”

“You’re lying.”

“It was some stupid kiddie coaster! I’d be shaking like a chihuahua if I went on Kingda Ka under the influence.” 

“I don’t think it would even be safe for a _cup_ to go on a coaster of that magnitude.” The lemming chortled. 

“You don’t know that! Besides… I like the big coasters. They’re scary, but that’s what makes them fun.”

“Maybe we should take a trip to Six Flags, then.” Crow suggested.

“Yeah, I’ll prove you wrong by going on Kingda Ka, high or sober!” 

“Bet.” Crow snickered. “What about you, Shake? What do you think your ‘special someone’ is doing?” Master Shake froze, his mouth slightly agape. He knew _exactly_ where this conversation was going to go, and he wasn’t liking it one bit. Not because he disliked Crow, but because he realized he was in _love_ with Crow and felt immense shame for it. 

“I… um.” His body was now dappled with condensation. 

“Shake, you good? You’re starting to… sweat?”

“Y-yeah I’m good. Absolutely noided.” Shake lied. He was always a bad liar. 

“I don't think you’re good if you’re ‘noided.’ We can change the subject if you want. I’m not mad.” Crow’s suggestion was genuine and understanding. 

“No, it’s fine. Just… give me a second.” He sighed. “Look, I don’t have a ‘special someone'.’ I sleep with chicks and then the next morning they leave me, or I leave them. I can’t be ‘chained down’ by commitment! Whoever wants this body can have it,” He stroked himself briefly and without confidence. “but only for the night.” Crow, while slightly disheartened by Shake’s answer, was suspicious of his sincerity. 

“Are you sure? Frylock said that you’ve never successfully got with anyone. Surely you fantasize about being in a relationship at least _once_ in your life.”

“Frylock, Frylock, _Frylock_ .” Shake growled with gritted teeth. “It’s always that smartass telling you shit about me that I don’t want anyone knowing.” His frustration towards his roommate was misdirected towards his best friend. Frylock was right: his attempts at getting with women always failed. If anything, all he had was Playboy and other adult magazines to ogle at. Since meeting Crow and becoming close friends with him, looking at porno mags was a hobby he got _bored_ of. Whether reading _Butt Frenzy_ or some other adult content, his mind trailed off to think about the lemming, someone who was realistically attainable and genuinely got along with. 

To Master Shake, the pornography was a bitter reminder of how much of a loser he was. In his mind, no one could love him. His overcompensation and his many tall tales of being buried in babes was his pathetic attempt to woo Crow, and in a matter of minutes, he was going to realize how his fabricated exploits were for absolutely nothing. 

“I’m so sorry,” Crow apologized profusely. “I should’ve been more considerate.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Shake queried. “I’m just a coward, alright? Women just don’t dig me. Or maybe I’m just looking for chicks in the wrong places! I truly don’t know and I don’t give two tits about it.”

“Are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not mad at you at all, Crow. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just beating around the bush over a simple question because I don’t like to show my sensitive side.”

“You don’t have to answer the question, Shake. It’s okay.” Crow reminded him gently. “It’s your choice.” 

“I already made the choice of answering.” Shake sat up, looking directly at his crush. “Maybe I do think of a ‘special someone,’ Crow. Maybe I do think about spending time with them. Maybe I do think the ideal date with them is flushing firecrackers down Carl’s toilet and getting a giant bucket of Popeyes chicken. Maybe I do wonder if they think of me, along with the of the ‘undesirable’ parts of me, too.” He paused, swallowing heavily.

“The answer to your question is that I hope that _he_ might be right next to me, and sitting next to _him_ on the rooftops and sharing a blunt is the closest thing I’ll ever get to a date in my sad, sad life.” The cup began to breathe heavily, his face turning crimson. He closed his eyes as he rested his head in his hands, shaking his head in disappointment. An awkward silence filled the once lively air. Crow observed the drink cup’s poor attempt at concealing his flushed face as he fiddled with a stray piece of string on his lilac sweater. He knew that Shake was talking about him. After a few minutes, Shake raised his head, slightly more composed now. 

“Did ya like the smoke rings?” He asked, desperately trying to forget what happened. “Because—“ Crow interrupted his subject change with a sudden kiss on the lips, taking Shake by complete surprise. The lemming pulled away quickly, overwhelmed with guilt due to his impulsiveness. Shake blinked, wide-eyed at the events that unfolded. Crow was bold, and that was something he loved about him. “Can you do that again?” He requested. 

Crow’s feelings of upset withered away as he shyly leaned in to kiss the giant drink cup once more. This time it lasted a couple of seconds longer than the first, but was interrupted by the two snickering loudly. Concerned that they would wake up the Aqua Teens’ human next-door neighbor, Carl, they clapped their mouths shut. 

“It’s getting pretty late. I think I should get going.” Crow murmured unwillingly. He didn’t want to leave, but felt anxious that he was overstaying his welcome. While attempting to make his way to the ladder, he nearly tripped on the shutters. “Must be a little dizzy…” 

“A _little?_ You almost fell off the roof!” Shake hollered. He hobbled his way to the off-balanced lemming, taking his hand as they slowly moved to the ladder. He was in awe at how soft Crow’s hand felt. “Trust me, you don’t wanna fall off the roof.” 

“It’s happened to _you_?” Crow became slightly anxious. While he knew the countless times Shake was critically injured as well as his copious near death experiences, it still worried him greatly. 

“I heard the ice cream truck while I was trying to get some sun.” Shake massaged Crow’s tense hand while retelling the story. “I forgot I was on the roof and fell flat on my face. Frylock had to haul me to the E.R.”

“Did you get the ice cream?” Crow’s hand relaxed. 

“Nah. I stole Meatwad’s.” 

“God, you’re extra.” He laughed, his anxiety was once again quelled by Shake’s comfort and humor. 

“It’s just the things I do for food!”

As they reached the top of the ladder, Shake let go of Crow’s hand, taking a few descending steps. 

“Follow me. There’s no rush.”

“You sure?”

“I go to sleep whenever the hell I want.”

Crow carefully stepped down the ladder, making sure he didn’t miss a single rung. He was less lightheaded now, but didn’t want to take the risk of going faster. The momentary tension in his body eased once his bare feet hit the cool, dewy grass. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Thanks, Shake.” Crow turned around to exchange a smile. “Do you think you can walk me home?” Shake raised his lid in surprise, avoiding direct eye contact apprehensively. 

“Crow, your place is a 20 minute walk from here. It’s three in the morning right now, and you’re stoned. I think it’s safer for you to spend the night here.”

“Frylock’s gonna be pissed at you though! He’ll think we hooked up or something!” Crow hissed. 

“Like hell he won’t!” Shake declared.

“You don’t have to act all ‘tough guy’ for me. I’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, alright? Passing out in the middle of the sidewalk inebriated is something I don’t want you experiencing.” 

“Lemme guess: that happened to you too?” Crow was humbled by Shake’s compassion. 

“It’s why I drink one beer and then I tap out.” 

The lemming spouted into hysterics. “You’re a fucking mess, Shake.” 

“And you’ve got your shit together. Opposites attract!”

Ignoring that Shake’s assumption Crow has his life together—which was somewhat true—Crow was tongue tied at his implication. He quickly wondered if he meant romantic attraction, or just their overall dynamic as friends. He never dropped subtle hints about his romantic feelings. In fact, he was quite upfront with his outlandish, lewd remarks. The duo approached the front door to the Aqua Teen house, which was in the form of Master Shake’s silhouette. 

“Before you ask about where to sleep,” Shake pointed to Crow. “I got it all under control.” 

After entering the Aqua Teen residency, Crow lounged on Shake’s pea soup green recliner, hearing the commotion he was making in the attic. A few minutes later, Shake re-emerged with a giant, deflated air mattress, an electric air pump, a pillow, and a fluffy blanket. Crow craned his neck to get a better look. 

“And where’d you get all of that from?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but this was Carl’s. I stole it when the Fed-Ex truck dropped it off and he still believes it got lost in the mail.” 

Crow beamed as he shook his head, completely unphased by Shake’s shenanigans. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“How’re ya feeling, Crow?”

“I think the high is gone for the most part. I’m just a _little_ dizzy now.” 

“That’s par for the course.”

“I’ll probably sleep it off.”

Shake plugged in the air pump into the wall socket, inserting the nozzle into the air mattress. With the flick of a switch, the air pump began to inflate the mattress directly behind his recliner. 

“This shouldn’t take long.” The muffled buzzing of the electric air pump droned in rhythm to the wobbly ceiling fan that was due to be realigned and tightened. A tinge of guilt crept up on Crow as he slowly began to sulk back into the recliner. 

“You really didn’t have to do all of this, Shake. I feel bad because all the noise might wake Meatwad and Frylock up.”

“They’re heavy sleepers. I don’t give a crap.” Shake prodded the air mattress to gauge if it was full enough. “If I get a goddamn lecture from Frylock, which I probably will, it’s not your fault. So don’t get so hung up on something you didn’t do.” Crow bobbed his head slowly, agreeing with Shake. 

“I’ll just tell Frylock that Meatwad was sleepwalking.”

“He’s not gonna believe you.” 

“ _And_?” Shake huffed. “He’ll just tell me to fuck off elsewhere!” While he knew that Shake was trying to be funny, Crow couldn’t help but feel like if he and Shake were to be romantically involved, it would be a detriment to the dynamic in the Aqua Teen house. He was slowly becoming convinced that Shake saw Crow as a burden, and by extension, was unhappy with his admission of romantic feelings toward him. 

After poking the mattress a few more times, Shake deduced that the mattress was completely full of air. He swiftly unplugged the nozzle and clamped the hole of the air mattress shut. He aired out the soft, heavy blanket and flattened it on the bed. Afterward, he grabbed the feather pillow and fluffed it up rigorously, placing it on the top edge of the mattress. 

“All set!” He announced proudly. 

“Shake, you know I can sleep on the recliner instead, right? You deserve to sleep comfortably for once. I can handle sleeping on a recliner for a few hours.”

“It’s really not that bad, Crow. I’m used to it.” Seeing that Crow wasn’t looking at him, his gaping smile slowly morphed into a pout. He didn’t know why Crow’s mood changed so suddenly. He didn’t consider that he might’ve had an adverse reaction to the blunt, but that didn’t make the most sense as Crow commonly has edibles. He tapped his lip with his fingers uneasily. 

“If you say so.” Crow walked to the air mattress and got situated. The blanket was incredibly warm and the pillow was more comfortable than he expected. Shake approached the light switch to the living room.

“‘Night, Crow. Sleep well.” There was a somber intonation in his voice. 

“You too, Shake.”

The milkshake flipped the switch off, the Aqua Teen house now pitch black. He propped himself onto the recliner, leaning back, unable to close his eyes. All he could do was stare at the ceiling fan, the vague swirls of its motion filling him with a pit in his stomach. He wanted to ask Crow if he did something wrong, to apologize for any moment he made his closest friend uncomfortable. He couldn’t quash the feeling that he hurt Crow somehow, and he sure as hell couldn't stop thinking about the kisses. He feared that he was too harsh with his words before and became angry with himself for being so stubborn. He was in love with Crow, the freelance artist, the baker, the music lover, the lemming. He spent all those nights trying to replicate the feelings he remembered when the two made pot brownies: the feeling of Crow sleeping on top of him, in his arms. The man he was in love with was a few feet away, sleeping alone, wallowing, and all Master Shake could do was feel regret. 

The short lemming was laying on his abdomen, gazing at the entrance into the kitchen. The kitchen light was on, its dim LCD glow serving as the house’s lonely moon. He felt alone despite how Shake was in the same vicinity. He wanted to scream and cry, but didn’t want to disturb the Aqua Teens with his angst. All he could think of was that Shake didn’t love him, that the kisses were meaningless, his flirting was purely empty, and his confession was merely half-baked drivel. He didn’t dare to see if Shake was still awake, but the uncertainty eroded his silent demeanor as he teetered closer and closer to the brink of hysterics, the ice cold air closing in on his throat. He was frustrated that he didn’t assert that he could’ve walked home by himself, appalled that he let someone play with his heart and take advantage of his kindness. He wondered why he even bothered falling for such a lecherous beverage cup, who would likely chew him up and spit him out once they had a night of passion. He had the sudden impulse to leave without a trace, never to return to the Aqua Teen house again. He squeezed his eyes shut as he prayed and prayed that the night was just a dream, and the hollow tapping of Shake’s body approaching was an alarm clock about to go off, taking him back to reality. 

The cup slowly approached the makeshift bed, eclipsing the fleeting moon, and laid beside Crow instantaneously. The lemming’s eyes darted open, and were now glued to Shake’s sullen face, suddenly startled by the fact Shake was in the same bed as him. Shake’s lower lip quivered, tripping on his words before he could even verbalize them. Sheepishly, he moved himself to face the ceiling. Crow, whose body was moving faster than his mind, impulsively wrapped his arms around the massive cup, his hands and cheek growing cold as goosebumps ran down his legs. It was exactly what he remembered when him and Shake slept for a day. The frigid, yet comforting sensation of Shake’s abnormal body temperature, still flabbergasted that he was so huggable. Shake’s abnormally tense presence eased. Crow’s velvet fingertips brush against him tenderly, clasping securely around his waist, butterflies filling his stomach. 

“You’re f-freezing!” Crow shivered.

“And _you’re_ warm and cozy.” Shake countered affectionately. He enveloped Crow and himself deeper into the blanket. Using his free hand, he placed it on Crow’s back, holding him closer in his embrace.

“That better?” He asked delicately. The lemming instantly melted into Shake’s arms. This was the first time he heard Shake speak in such a gentle manner. 

“Mhm.”

For a few minutes, they cuddled in silence, kept awake by the elephant in the room that they were petrified to mention. The milkshake ran his hand through Crow’s frisky, forest green hair restlessly.

“Crow, I…” His voice trailed off.

“Hm?”

“I’m crazy about ya, Crow. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

_“What?!”_ Crow wheezed. 

“Look, I’m a six foot talking milkshake. That’s a huge turn off for chicks.” Shake stroked Crow’s face using his thumb. “But you fell for me, Crow. It coulda been anyone else, but you chose me. I can’t help but feel a little special because of that.”

“God, this whole time I thought it was just the weed talking…” Shake carefully moved his hand to brush under Crow’s chin, slowly elevating his head. He leaned in slightly, planting a gentle kiss directly on his lover’s lips. 

“Guess I’ve always been wasted around you, then.” Shake parted unhurriedly. The lemming’s heart fluttered in elation as he broke into laughter. 

“What’s so funny? Am I not a good kisser?” Shake queried, afraid that Crow was mocking him. 

“You’re a good kisser, Shake! I’m just laughing because I’m happy.”

“They don’t call me the Master for nothing, baby.” The drink cup purred, rolling his tongue as he replicated the growling of a cat. 

Crow’s face reddened. “Wow. Holy _shit_.”

“...Do you—do you not like it? I can call you something else.” 

“Nooooo, you’re good! I’ve just never heard you... speak like that before. Kinda hot.” 

The couple began to giggle immaturely. 

“Speaking of pet names, has anyone called you...” Crow elongated the end of his sentence. “‘Baby-Shakes?’”

“N-no, and I would prefer if nobody did!” Shake bashfully objected. “But you’re the only one who can call me that, because you sound cute when you say it and it makes me wanna kiss you a whole lot.” Taking him by surprise, Crow kissed Shake on the cheek first, followed by the cup kissing Crow all over his face—cheeks, snout, forehead, and a few pecks on the lips. Shake twirled a lock of Crow’s hair, exhaling jovially.

“Crazy fucking night, huh?” He said. 

“You bet. I can’t believe I’m cuddling with a six foot cup.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’m holding a tiny lemming.” 

“Hey, I’m not that small!” Crow returned. “It’s a foot difference between you and I! It just looks greater because you’re a massive cup with eyeballs and little hands.”

“But I can carry you around the house, and if I wasn’t high earlier, I would’ve carried you home. You’re fun-sized.”

“You know it.” Crow said proudly. 

“How would you feel about me cooking up a nice breakfast tomorrow?” Shake wondered.

“Well, I could go for eggs in a nest, but I think we’ll be sleeping way past breakfast time. We can go to the diner and get some brunch.”

“As long as it’s just the two of us.” Shake murmured.

“...What about Frylock? Meatwad?”

“Come _on_ , babe. Frylock chewing my ear off at the asscrack of dawn isn’t gonna change that I’m with my lover.”

_“L-lover?”_ Crow’s voice rose at a higher volume. 

“That’s who you are to me, Crow. ” The lemming eyed around nervously, temporarily back in a state of anxiousness and malaise. Silence filled the air. 

“This… isn’t some giant practical joke, right?” Crow’s voice was barely audible. 

“Why would I be joking?”

The lemming was at a loss for words; another case of his mind trying to mess with him. Shake gave Crow a prolonged, softhearted kiss on his forehead. 

“I love you, Crow. I always have.”

He gripped the sturdy cup unwaveringly, sighing in relief, eyes watering in joy. “I love you too.” 

“I think it’s about time we went to bed.” Shake yawned loudly. Crow already beat him to it, as he was nodding off in the cup’s arms. The twilight sky peeked through the curtains, its beam of moonlight directly on the two lovebirds. “Goodnight, babypie.” He cooed, swiping a lock of Crow’s curly hair aside.

“Sleep tight, ‘Baby-Shakes.’”

Minutes after Crow fell asleep, Shake beamed uncontrollably. In the thirty to forty years he’s been alive, he never expected to be in a relationship with a furry creature, let alone his best friend. And he couldn’t wait to rub it in Frylock’s face. 


End file.
